


Eating Adorable Children is Generally Frowned Upon

by RiatheMai



Series: A Wee Bit More Than a Drabble [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute Baby Sam, French Fries and Happy Meals, Gen, Gratuitous Sweetness and shmoop, John is a good father, Sweet Big Brother Dean, Weechester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai
Summary: Ever see a child who is so sweet and adorable you could just eat them with a spoon?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This came about after a brief exchange between a reviewer and me. I told them it was a great story prompt if I'd ever heard one.
> 
> Another cross post from my FanFiction account, because I thought we could all use a little sweetness.

**Eating Adorable Children is Generally Frowned Upon**

 

“Daddy.”

 

John couldn't help the smile that pulled his lips, no matter how many times he heard the word.

 

“Daddydaddydaddydaddy.”

 

Even then. He had to wonder if it would ever get old. Sammy had finally said the word for the first time just the day before. He'd been saying ‘Dean’ for weeks, it seemed, but not ‘Daddy’. Not even ‘Dada’, although he did laugh every time he heard Dean say it. 

 

And Dean, bless his five-and-a-half—and you did not forget the half—year-old heart, had been saying it a lot, lately, trying to get Sammy to say it back. Sammy would just laugh, sometimes so hard that John was afraid he was going to hyperventilate, choke, or throw up. So many times, John had been tempted to put an end to the lesson, but then he'd hear Dean laugh—something the boy so rarely did—and he just couldn't do it. 

 

Dean rarely let the game go too far. He was always so careful of Sammy, and he always seemed to know when enough was enough, stopping long before anything could get to the point where Sammy might get hurt, scared, or unhappy. 

 

John set Sammy down in the wooden high chair, and Dean immediately climbed into the booth beside him and put both arms high in the air.

 

“Sammy! Hands up!”

 

Feet kicking happily, Sammy copied him exactly, throwing both hands up in the air and keeping them there as long as Dean did. It was yet another little game Dean had taught him, so they wouldn't accidentally clip his fingers in his safety belt. 

 

John shook his head in amazement, as he always did when Dean came up with clever ways to get Sammy to do such simple things—things John never would have thought to try. He often wondered if maybe the hospital had handed the operating instructions—the ones they liked to claim didn't come with babies when they were born— to Dean and bribed him not to tell anyone. 

 

“Good boy, Sammy,” Dean cooed excitedly. He dropped his hands and Sammy's hands came down with them, smacking noisily at the tabletop. “Did’ja see, Daddy?”

 

John ruffled Dean's hair. “I sure did, Dean. That was a really great trick you taught him.”

 

“ _Daddydeedaddydeedaddydee_!” Sammy sang happily, his hands and feet banging against the table in alternating rhythm. 

 

“All right, Tiger,” John laughed, sliding into the booth across from Dean. “It's coming.”

 

He opened the Happy Meal and laid out the burger and fries inside onto a napkin, then slid it in front of Dean careful to keep it out of Sammy's reach. He then unwrapped another burger, and cut off small pieces to set in front of Sammy. 

 

The burger held little interest to him. The small pieces of French fries that soon followed, however, were a different story. His little hands grabbed up the pieces as fast as John put them down and crammed them into his mouth. 

 

John picked up a piece of burger and held it out for Sammy to take. Sammy looked at it for a second then took it from John's hand. It looked like he was actually going to eat it—much to John's surprise—but then a look of mischief flashed across his chubby face and Sammy held it out to Dean. 

 

Nearby, he heard laugher, and he looked over at the next table. An old woman sat alone nursing a cup of tea. The trash from her finished meal was neatly piled on her tray. 

 

She caught John's eye and smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry,” she said to him, and her smile grew. “But, he's a little Dickens, isn't he?”

 

It was an old saying, one of which John had never fully understood the meaning. “If by that, you mean that he's going to keep me on my toes, I think you might be right,” he answered with a smile. 

 

He put a few more pieces of French fry down in front of Sammy who snatched them up and stuffed them into his mouth. 

 

“Well, he sure...loves his...French fries, doesn't he?” She slowly pushed herself to her feet as she spoke, the effort it took betrayed by the slight catch in her voice. 

 

John winced inwardly as he watched her carry her tray to the nearby trash bucket. Manners said to offer her his assistance, but not if it meant leaving his kids out of his immediate reach. 

 

She emptied her tray and set it on the pile of other empty trays on top of the trash bucket, then turned back to face John. Clearly, she was enjoying their conversation, and was in no hurry to see it ended. 

 

“Yeah,” he answered. “Not so much of the burger, though.”

 

As if knowing he was the subject of their conversation, Sammy turned in his seat to look at the old woman.

 

“Hello there,” she said, giving him a small wave and a warm smile. 

 

He seemed to think about it for a second, and then his whole face lit up in a big smile. He reached out his hand to her, offering her the same small piece of burger he'd tried, unsuccessfully, to pawn off on Dean. 

 

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You eat it,” he said, with barely contained humor. The woman was laughing outright, which just gave Sammy an audience.

 

“Like this, Sammy,” Dean said, then. Sammy's head snapped around to his brother. “Watch.” Dean took a piece of Sammy's burger and made a great show of popping it in his mouth and chewing it up. “Now, you do it.”

 

Sammy picked up another piece with his right hand—the first momentarily forgotten in his left—and slowly brought it to his mouth. His eyes never left Dean's, and when Dean opened his mouth wide, Sammy copied him, opening his little mouth wide in front of the piece of food. 

 

John felt himself holding his breath. 

 

Then let it out in a huff when Sammy's hand shot out towards Dean, the uneaten piece of burger grasped in his fingers. 

 

The old woman laughed again, and John felt himself unable to _not_ join her. “Dickens, you said?”

 

Drawn to his daddy's voice, Sammy reached out his left hand and dropped the squished piece of burger onto the table next John's tray.

 

“Thanks,” he said drily. 

 

“Oh, he is a little piece of angel food cake,” the old woman cooed, and Sammy gave her another of his megawatt smiles. “Why, I could just eat you up with a spoon. Yes, I could.”

 

Sam thought this was pretty funny and a little laugh bubbled out of him. Dean wasn't so pleased, though.

 

“No, you can't,” he said firmly, dropping his half-eaten burger onto his napkin. “I won't let you!”

 

“Oh, my heavens,” she said, her hand going to her chest in surprise. 

 

John was pretty shocked, himself, at the outburst. “I’m sorry,” he told her, though he really wasn't. Not even a little.

 

The woman wasn't upset, though. She gave Dean a very serious nod. “Why, I should certainly hope not. Eating adorable children is generally frowned upon in civilized society, after all.”

 

Dean seemed to consider that for a bit, and then looked at John for some sort of guidance. John assessed the old woman—she hadn't made any move towards either child, and although the comment had been a bit odd, there had been nothing in her demeanor that had seemed even remotely threatening. 

 

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, giving Dean a nod to let him know everything was okay. He looked up at the old woman and said, “He's very protective of his little brother.”

 

She smiled warmly. Looking directly at Dean, she said very seriously, “That makes you a very good big brother.”

 

She turned that grandmotherly smile on John and said, “You have a beautiful family. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.”

 

She waved goodbye to the boys, and if she was hurt that Dean didn't wave back, John couldn't tell and he really didn't care. He turned back to Dean and gave him a smile.

 

“You're the best big brother, Sport,” he said. 

 

Dean smiled. “The best ever, right, Sammy?” he said, leaning close and making a funny face at his baby brother.

 

Sammy pressed the piece of burger against Dean's mouth, and Dean opened his mouth and took it from his fingers. 

 

“Yum, yum,” he said as he chewed, and Sammy shrieked in delight.

 

“So much for getting him to eat that, now,” John said to himself. 


End file.
